Of Captains
by HangSonDoong
Summary: A re-invention of Joss's epic movie, as narrated by the iconic voice of Death from Marcus Zusak's  novel "The Book Thief." Hopefully more sense than that sounds.  All the action, humor, and great characters of the original; now with added grim reaper!
1. Chapter 1

**The Prolog Chapter- this is the start of a multi-chapter work that I'm putting together - a reinterpretation of the film Serenity from the POV of Marcus Zusak's "Death" (of 'The Book Thief' fame). Not entirely sure how events will unfold, but things may end up more to my tastes than Joss Whedons' **

***Although you won't really need to know anything about the Book Thief for this to work, it's pretty big in this intro. ; the more Firefly-heavy parts will come later. ***

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><p><strong>Basic plot structure, characters (with the notable exception of the narrator), and most everything else belong to the Whedon, so Joss is Boss, etc.<strong>

**Writing style and narrative preferences are an homage to Marcus Zusak's Death.**

**Everything else (what little that is) is my writing.**

**Enjoy! Oh, and if you have any suggestions for a better title, those would be welcome. **

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><p>Ah, it's good to be back.<p>

You see, I was on vacation.

After Liesel Meminger, the colors became a little to much to handle.

The colors always come first.

Then the humans.

That's how I used to see things.

A small fact- You've died.

I attempted to break it to you gently, but that failed somewhat miserably, didn't it? Although, you probably find yourself hindered in believing me. Please, trust me. Hundreds of years ago, it was. You lived on a tiny little planet that got too big to sustain your numbers.

That's mostly my fault.

I took a vacation, remember?

Reaction to aforementioned fact- How exactly did you come to be here, listening to me? Well, I may not be nice, but I am fair. And I thought you'd like to see what happened after.

Of course, for those of you whom I don't count as mutual friends (Liesel Meminger had quite a social circle), I suppose an introduction is called for.

A beginning.

Well, I am a little rusty.

I could introduce myself properly, but it's not really necessary. You've probably figured it out by now, being dead and all. Remember? You were lying there, caked in your own body. She stood over you. Your soul was in her arms. And the stars shone around her head where normally a color would have been perched on my shoulder. She carried you gently away.

She's my substitute, my fill-in.

She's good at her job, or, my job.

She took over post-Liesel, and I saw no reason to return.

Until now.

I think I came back because I missed the colors. I missed the waxy yellows, the cloud-spat blues, and especially the rich-creamy-dark chocolate. It's quite a coincidence that when I did return, that Black was all there was left. Can I have to much of a good thing?

We'll never know what color the sky was, when you died, because she never took note.

A small theory- Everyone has a color, a flavor. One of billions of these colors is you. Just like one moment of sky.

And so I came back. I made a second conscious, deliberate decision. The colors no longer needed to be my vacation, so they became my job, my career, my profession.

And I love my job.

So, many years after Liesel, I sat back and watched you fly your little silver seeds away from earth-that-was. She had started to slip, letting too many of you through the cracks. And this was what happened. You packed up and left.

A clarification- Not you specifically, of course. You're dead, remember? It's been a while- you should get used to it.

But it's not like you'd learned anything. You still made her work hard to finish my job. And one day you started a war. You called me back.

Which in turn brings me to the subject I am telling you about, here in this in-between place. It's the story of someone very like Liesel- an expert at being on the losing side of things.

That's not to say he doesn't still believe it was the right side.

Oh- I haven't introduced you, have I?

I suppose his story merits an introduction- It's yet another small story, about, among other things; - A captain

Some planets

An Alliance

Some cannibalistic Reavers

A crew

And quite a lot of faith (or thievery, if you prefer)

I saw the captain's crew many times, yes.

But on three occasions, I held them in my arms.


	2. Chapter 2

I'd always known something of Serg-, er, Captain Malcolm Reynolds. In the years of the war, he sent hundreds into my care. I must admit, I was too distracted at the time to spare much thought for the Captain.

Later, things calmed down a bit.

In his words, "Here's how it is: The Earth got used up, so we moved out and terraformed a whole new galaxy of Earths, some rich and flush with the new technologies, some not so much. The Central Planets, them was formed the Alliance, waged war to bring everyone under their rule; a few idiots tried to fight it, among them myself. I'm Malcolm Reynolds, captain of Serenity. She's a transport ship, Firefly class. Got a good crew: fighters, pilot, mechanic. We even picked up a preacher for some

reason, and a bona fide companion. There's a doctor too, took his genius sister out of

some Alliance camp, so they're keeping a low profile, you understand. You got a job, we can do it, don't much care what it is..."

So when I again caught up with the good Captain, it was some years later.

Frequently, he was a dark shadow of rich brown at the edge of my vision when I picked up a soul. Not usually his fault, but there were exceptions. It was natural, when his philosophy consisted of "If somebody tries to kill you, you try to kill 'em right back!"

But one day, the status quo shifted.

First up is a rich, dark purple, a bit bloodstained and worn, but like a scrap of fabric, with some strange sort of meaning. I suppose it was something to do with what you would call "God".

Oh- you wanted me to tell you what happens next? Unlikely. And, again, I think you'd rather not argue with me. The reality is, I would prefer not to know. I'll never see it myself, anyway.

Next is something blue, of the pale, icy morning sky variety. The smallest tinge of lavender- but you're not old enough to know what that signifies yet.

The last time I saw them was brown.

I'll not tell you much more about these escapades- a few things have changed since last time I sat around a campfire (metaphoric, of course) and told a story, as you'll soon see.

On the dry, dusty surface of a desert planet, Serenity skimmed the surface. I liked to think of the pilot, Wash, playing with a few faintly ridiculous toy dinosaurs behind the controls. It was a anachronistic concoction of children's playthings and serious machinery. Wash and I got along as well as two people who've never spoken can - in fact, most people liked him, which just made the coming events harsher.

An Acknowledgement~

Oh no, I won't spoil things for you this time. (Anyone recall the Rudy affair?) I rarely pay attention to your opinions, but apparently those things you call "spoilers" (which I merely think of as polite warnings), aren't as beneficial as I always thought. Ah well.

The Heist-

I knew of the crew's plan, and of their reputation, so I hovered behind Wash's shoulder, waiting. Sometimes, I arrive too early, and sometimes I arrived early just because. In these planets people tended to cling longer to life than you did, back on Earth-that Was.

Next to me, ever vigilant, stood the Captain. Mal.

A definition-

"Mal" meaning 'bad' in the Latin.

I'll leave it up to you whether it's an accurate root, or a false friend, un faux-ami.


End file.
